| Army brigade, guns, grenades, fuck a parade
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| A dirty blade pierces your skin, you search for aid
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| Medical, Royal goverment, the federal
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| Knight to King-Bishop 3, my move is jettin you
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| It’s actual, a scientist that’s graftin you
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| What you think? |
| That’s the question that I’m asking you
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| Bomb material, you die from the radiation
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| Royal Fam/Ill Base, what? |
| Affiliation
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| Collision, crashing niggas like a test dummy
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| Accident/meant to happen, you rest ugly
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| Dressed in armorment, fight like barbarians
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| Slaughtering heads, we got connections with the aliens
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| Royal, down to Earth like soil
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| Four-fifty farenheit, I make the mic boil
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| My raps slaughter everything just like Jemel the poet
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| Bring the light, I be the king to knight when I swing the mic
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| You grow wings of flight like Nike Airs
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| Beware, I might tear through your right ear with a nightmare
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| Grow white hairs on your cranium cuz I’m draining 'em
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| Stainin 'em, steel is titanium
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| Brutalize computer guys that utilize the distics
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| Snap their necks like dipsticks for wearing lipsticks
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| Blends quick like defence, sylabbles in sequence
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| Intents to bomb police precincts
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| Forceful instructor, reality conductor
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| Puncture the structure of corruptors
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| Lyrical master, I blast until your disaster
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| Faster than Nasa, get ghost like Casper
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| After that, flip off tracks like an acrobat
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| Phat raps thats cleaner than clothes out of a laundry mat
|
| Me and Timbo leave rappers in limbo
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| Vocal crescendo blows your style out the window
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| Damn, brothas is foul like spoilled ham
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| Oil grams, the Royal Fam eating up your ground like the oil man
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| When you least expect is when I attack
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| Infact, your format is not yet suitable for combat
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| Still desendent factions in the kingdom
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| Campaign desperate attempts to take you freedoms
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| Emphatically, wack stratagies don’t impress me
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| Impulsiveness’ll bring a fucking tragedy, test me
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| Descent to the essence quickly, niggas strictly flip
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| Fuckin with this royal assembly, his majesty summoned me
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| The Chief Administrator of the Law
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| True Master of this hardcore Art of War
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| I explore the depths of conflict with no pretense
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| Found the best strategy, the most aggressive defense
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| So when you rush to attack, it be I to crush your force
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| And exhaust your supplies, don’t send for reinforcements
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| Give orders for men to maintain they respective borders
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| Or it’s a god damn slaughter
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| Yo, my technical terms is like bacterial germs
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| Simpirials learned, gats get serious burns
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| You managed the damage, lyrical skills left your brain banished
|
| Your soul vanished, but your body’s on the same planet
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| Down some foruty’s, hoodies, fatugies, Timbs and shorties
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| Buttoned up Tommy’s, captured your boat low and naughty
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| The life I’m living, giving material religions
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| Slugs in vision, not a nasty but fast dicision
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| Sleek, we creap, tight, deep like a coalition
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| They’ll be more visions, the specialists, medics, morticians
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| I hit your business, get your position an attorney
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| I’m on this journey, heaven or hell don’t concern me
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| Walk through your mental, cancel styles with magnetic weapons
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| Kenetic sinister, minister of theories and epics
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| My flow’s wet like oral sex in a skin flick
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| Mack ten’s flip, advantage, flip and start to trim shit
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| Your rim’s split, gat, big pump, you have to
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| Bullets passing the draft, blasting one, will catch you
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| Minds deserted, kick rhymes, nines is bursting
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| Crimes rehearsing, drop shot, cops in hearses |